


Imbas Forosnai

by orphan_account



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe- Supernatural, M/M, Magic, Paganism, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-17
Updated: 2012-04-21
Packaged: 2017-11-03 20:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/385446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for this prompt:<br/>Pearson Hardman isn't just the best law firm in the city, it's the best law firm that caters to the city's supernatural citizens. Discreet, of course; not everyone wants to share the fact that the full moon sends them a little nuts or that it's a warm drink of a-positive that gets them through the day.</p>
<p>When Mike stumbles into Harvey's interviews, he's dismayed to learn that Pearson Hardman has a long and successful habit of only hiring witches from prominant covens, the elite kind who know exactly how the supernatural world runs. Grammy might be the only other witch Mike has grown up with, but Harvey is willing to take a chance on him anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Mike Ross knew it was a bad idea when he accepted the job from Trevor. He knew that wolfsbane was an illegal substance when over a certain amount. He knew that if the police or, Gods forbid, the Enforcers caught him he would go to jail for a _long_ time. The utter stupidity of his decision was hitting him now as Mike be-lined it down a hotel hallway, trying to outrun the cops. Sometimes he wondered how this was his life.

As usual, his luck kicked in just on time and he found himself face to face with a willowy redhead calling him by some dudes name and telling him that a Mr. Specter would be right with him. Of course, the briefcase just had to click open and spill the packets of herbs all over the floor in front of the refined looking guy moments later. _Shit._

“How the hell did you know they were police?”

Mike seriously wondered how this was his life, as he now found himself chatting with Mr. Harvey Specter moments after that monumental cock-up. “I notice a lot of things others don't. And they felt kind of edgy like they were waiting for something.” 

Harvey leaned back in his chair with a strange look on his face. “And why did you ask them what time it was?”

“To throw them off. What kind of person asks the cops what time it is while holding a case of wolfsbane?”

Harvey smirked. “We should hire you. Hel, I'd give you the twenty-five grand as a signing bonus.”

“I'll take it.”

“Unfortunately, we only hire from prominent clans. And you don't belong to one, nor have you passed the Bar.”

Mike sighed softly. He loved his Grammy, but sometimes it sucked that she was a solitary practitioner and he had been raised so. “Look, what if I told you that I consume knowledge like no one you have met, I have been Twice Born, and I have passed the Bar.”

“I'd say you are full of crap.”

“Ask me anything.”  
“'In Dickerson v. United States, the Supreme Court of the United States opened the door-'”

“'-to more civil suits against law enforcement officers when it held that the warning and waiver provisions of Miranda v. Arizona reached "constitutional proportions." Very recently, in Chavez v. Martinez, the Court, while not closing that door completely, narrowed the opening by limiting the circumstances under which an officer may be civilly liable for Miranda violations.'”

“How did you know that?” Harvey asked, looking a bit thunderstruck.

“I read it. While studying for the bar. Ask me something magic based.”

Harvey leaned back in his chair and frowned lightly. “Ihu-Maataotao is one of several names-”

“-for a class of lizard-like creatures from the folklore of the Maori people of New Zealand. If one of these creatures is caught and killed, and its gut opened, the undigested remains of its victims will fall out.”

Harvey was grinning now. “Perth and Eadha.”

“Perth is the rune meaning destiny, hidden forces, unexpected luck, and initiation. Eadha is the ogham of intuition and overcoming obstacles, and its tree is the Aspen.”

“Huh.” Harvey regarded Mike, a strange look on his face. “Hypothetically, if I did give you this job, which major coven would you belong to and how would you convince the others?”

“I would be part of the seldom heard of Imbas Forosnai clan. My knowledge and _coll_ tattoo would be enough proof for them.”

The Imbas Forosnai clan was a Druid based coven that was blessed with the Salmon of Knowledge and the Hazel tree. Mike was technically from that clan, but since his Grammy had left them after her Twice Born ritual, he was not officially acknowledged by them. But Harvey didn't need to know that.

“Alright,” Harvey said. “You're hired. Welcome to Pearson-Hardman, Mike Ross.”


	2. Beithe

****_ Beithe- Beginnings. Ogham. Birch Tree. _

 

 

Mike's first impression of Rachel Zane was that she did not tolerate idiots. Or guys who check her out. Or someone named Louis Litt.

She kind of terrified him but he liked her right of the bat. After a quick tour of the office, complete with comments about his skinny tie, the cut of his suit, and the state of his shoes, she handed him over to Donna.

He recognized her from the incident at the hotel as the willowy redhead. Donna had an aura of competence and all knowing so Mike was not at all surprised when he noticed the necklace that marked her as an Oracle from the Temple of Daphne. The Temple of Daphne was famous for taking in orphans and strays under the age of ten, all female of course, and turning them into successful oracles and priestesses. All of whom were very good at whatever job you gave them.

In Mike's humble opinion, Donna was a Goddess. And not just because she found out within moments (and right after Harvey threatened to fire Mike) about their deal and seemed totally alright with it.

At Pearson-Hardman, the associates would not work a case until they had proven themselves knowledgeable of the supernatural world. So Mike was stuck on desk duty and talking to clients until Harvey deemed him worthy. Harvey tended to take cases related to coven and rare creatures while the rest of the firm was broken into various specialities. Jessica Pearson, who Mike had yet to even see, apparently only took on major cases involving the Ancients. Louis Litt took any and every client who was undead or dead, which Mike admired because vampires were notoriously narcissistic and zombies took forever to form a sentence. He didn't want to even think about working with spirits.

Harvey was working on a pro bono case involving a succubus who was accused of sexually harassing her employer, which she denied and, if Mike's empathy was functioning okay, was innocent. Maybe the idiot could not tell the difference between a wet dream and a succubus visit.

Mike was stuck researching past cases involving succubus' and sexual harassment. It took him all day to pile together the necessary paperwork and by the time he was finished it was well past six thirty. Sighing with relief, he packed up his stuff and started to head for the elevator.

“Mike, where are you going?” Rachel asked from behind him.

He spun around to face her, “Home.”

“Ah, no you're not. Not if you want to keep your job.” He cocked a brow at her. “Newbies do not leave until after eight for at _least_ their first year.”

Mike groaned. “Seriously?”

She nodded. He sighed heavily and trudged back to his desk. He was starting to regret this.

 

The next day, Harvey appeared at his cubicle and stared down at Mike until he tugged the earphones out and look up at him. “Yes?”

“Good job on the research.” Harvey flapped the stack of paper Mike had left on his desk the night before at him. “I need you to look into the Heathcock v. Hart case. I want it on my desk by noon.”

The corners of his mouth turned up in an almost smile and Harvey walked off.

Mike beamed and got to work.  
  


* * *  
  


Harvey won the case and everything was going along great for Mike.

Then he met Louis Litt.

There was one office a short walk from Mike's cubicle that was always dark and ominous. There was no name on the door. The other associates and paralegals avoided it like the plague and he could swear that the only clients that appeared to enter the place were... well, not quite alive.

Mike discovered why the other employees avoided walking too close to it when he was suddenly snatched into it by a pale hand that appeared out of the dark.

“Well, if it isn't Mike Ross,” came a smarmy voice from the inky darkness surrounding him. “I have a deal for you, Mike.”

“Uh...” Mike glanced around him, but all he could see was a muffled light from where the glass was. Dude was using a serious shielding spell. “I usually don't do deals with people I haven't even seen.”

“Smart boy.” A flame flared in the dark and two thick dark candles flickered to life. The shadows retreated a bit to reveal a short balding man who looked a bit like a vicious squirrel. He gave Mike a creepy grin. “I am Louis Litt, Junior Partner. But that shall soon be senior partner and you, Mike, strike me as a smart kid. So I have a deal for you. Six years of your life force in exchange for a promotion to work for me.”

Mike was seriously weirder out now. “Thanks, but.. I think I'll pass.”

Litt's grin stayed where it was, but he melted into the shadows a bit more. “I'll give you a few days to think on it, Mikey boy. I'm sure you'll change your mind. After all, Harvey can be... difficult to work for.”

A muffled knock came from the glass door and a tall dark haired vampire walked in, barely glancing at Mike.

“Back to work now, Mike.” Louis turned his attention to the vampire now seated at his desk. “Hello, Angelus. Would you care for a glass of A positive?”

Mike totally did not run to the door.

Necromancers. Eek.

 

* * *  
  


“Mike!” A knocking at his door woke Mike from a light slumber. With a groan he twisted to look at the dully glowing red numbers of the clock. 2:20. AM. What the hell.

“Mike! Open the door!”

It dimly registered that it was Trevor pounding away at the door, shouting his name. Fuck. The neighbours were going to complain. “Mike! I know you're in there!” Damn Trevor. Mike had managed to avoid him for the last week while settling into Pearson-Hardman, but it looked like his legendary luck had run out. It had to be bad for Trevor to seek him out.

“MIKE!”

“Fuck, I'm coming, I'm coming. Shut up!” Mike lurched out of bed rather like a zombie (and ho boy did that make him twitch. He half expected to turn around a see Louis' smarmy smile deep in the shadows. It had been happening all week at work.), tugged on a shirt and shuffled over to the door.

“Mike. Hurry up, man.”

He yawned as the locks clicked open and tugged the door open, revealing the sullen form of his friend. “Trev, I haven't slept for the last twenty hours. What it is.”

Trevor glowered and slipped into the room, hands shoved deep into his pockets. “What did you do with the wolfsbane?”

“Wha- you came over here at _2am_ to ask me about that?!” Mike asked, incredulous. He folded his arms over his chest, frowning. “What the hell!”

“Just give me the herbs, Mike.”

“The herbs I almost went to jail for.”

Trevor winced minutely and clenched his jaw. “I didn't know. But I need the herbs. The guys... they're on my ass about it and I'm going to be in some deep shit if I don't get it back.”

“I don't have it.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Mike blinked. Total lie. He had the case tucked away in his oven inside an old pizza box. He knew by telling Trevor that, that he was causing trouble for his friend, but fuck. Trevor pulled shit like this all the time and Mike was tired of cleaning up after him. He was tired of lying to Jenny about Trevor's job, he was just _tired_.

“What? Mike, I need that stuff!” Trevor took a step towards him, eyes furious.

“I chucked it while running from the cops. Didn't get a chance to look for it later.” Lies lies lies!

“Mike-”

“No. Just no, Trevor. I need to sleep, I have work in four hours and I need to function. Just go home to Jenny and figure this out by yourself.” Mike started to edge past him to the door and gripped the handle.

Trevor didn't budge. He looked long and hard at Mike, practically vibrating with tension. Eventually he visibly reigned himself in and stalked over to the door. “Fine.” He shouldered his way past him and crossed the threshold. “Just fine.” He slammed the door shut and Mike could hear him stalking off down the hall.

Letting out a breath he did not know he was holding, Mike rested his forehead against the cool wood and twisted the locks shut. Above him, the iron horseshoe let off a comforting secure feeling.

If Trevor had corned him anywhere except here, that would have ended badly. But Mike's house was his temple, his castle, and his safe room all in one. No one could harm him within the small apartment and Trevor knew it. When Mike first noticed his friends shortening temper he had warded the rooms with every anti-were spell he could think of. And boy did they work. Trevor (or any were for that matter, wolf or otherwise) felt physically uncomfortable the longer he remained in the room while in a temper.

With a deep sigh, he turned back to bed.

  
* * *

 

When it finally happened, Mike was amused. It took the other associates over a week to get around to asking him what coven he belonged to.

To no surprise, it was Kyle who asked. Dude hated him.

“So, Ross. What coven are you from? Sheela Na Gig?”

There was a round of muffled sniggers.

“Why Kyle,” Mike spun his chair to face the other man and smiled serenely at him. “I had no idea you felt that way about me.”

He could _feel_ the confusion in the other at that and suppressed the urge to let the smile turn into a smirk. There were certain advantages to being part of a smaller fraction. Each coven or clan focused upon a certain Parthenon and Old Tradition. The United States was predominantly Greek or Roman based, with a smaller fraction being Hedge. The smallest percentage of the population was a mix of Celtic, Shaman and Norse.

Kyle was from an ancient Roman coven and thought he was the shit.

“Some hotshot you are, Ross. I _view_ you as grotesque, not feel.” Kyle's response was accompanied by a cocky head-toss.

“Tell me, Kyle,” Mike leaned back slightly, adopting a condescending tone. “Do you know what the Sheela Na Gig represents?” He didn't give time for the other to respond. “She symbolizes protection, fertility, and sexuality.”

He could see Harvey out of the corner of his eye and perked up slightly. It was automatic now, but whenever he saw the other man Mike just wanted to gain his approval.

Kyle was staring at him now, the realization of what he had just implied sinking in.

“I had no idea you wanted in my pants, Kyle.”

Was it a trick of the light, or did Harvey's lips just twitch?

There was a light tittering as the others revelled in Kyle's defeat. Mike basked in it for a moment and made sure to remember the look on the others face. Awesome.

“Mike, my office.” Harvey smoothly slid past his cubicle and smirked at the frozen form of Kyle. “Better think things though next time,” he tossed in his direction and continued on, Mike eagerly bouncing along behind him.

Gods, Mike loved his job.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting to go a little into the plot... This is only going to be 7 chapters though. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Orginal prompt at http://suits-meme.livejournal.com/3959.html?thread=2929783t2929783  
> So, this is a little intro to this. Later chapters will be longer.
> 
> I'm going to have it that each person's clan is focused on a certain deity/religion/nature aspect etc. For example, Mike is Celtic based, Harvey is a Norse Odin-focused one, and Rachel Zane will be a Wiccan.
> 
> Hel is the Norse goddess of the underworld.


End file.
